


Crystalline

by timespacethoughtcontinuum



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: 'Fix It', 7x05 Chrysalis, Ableism, Ableist Language, Gen, ds9tumblzine week3, episode rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timespacethoughtcontinuum/pseuds/timespacethoughtcontinuum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a re-write of the DS9 episode, 7x05 Chrysalis, written for the DS9 Tumblzine Week 3 challenge 'Fix It', and based on a prompt submitted to that zine by bmouse. Though the story follows the same basic plot, it explores more extensively the effects this situation could have on Sarina, Julian, and in this case, Ezri Dax. And, basically, that whole 'love story' is out.</p><p>Warnings for ableism, especially internalized ableism, as well as fictional!neuroatypical characters in a sci-fi setting, for anyone actually unfamiliar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was, by bmouse, "a re-write of “Chrysalis” where it’s actually not a cringeworthy unethical ablest mess that makes me hate Bashir. Someone please call him out on his issues and problematic behavior."  
> Removing the unethical ableist mess, of course, gave me sufficiently less to call out, but I think this still applies.

The Institute for the Genetically Enhanced was a bright and sterile place; something of a cross between a long-term hospital and a private academy. For over one-hundred years, since the fateful recovery of the _S.S. Botany Bay_ and the minor re-emergence of humanity’s interest in genetic engineering, the Institute has kept and cared for those humans with genetic enhancements who were deemed unable to function in Federation society. The facility was large and state-of-the-art in terms of equipment and resources, but none of that mattered to one of the young residents, who’d been left at the Institute as a young girl, barely ten. For Sarina Douglas the world was small and simple: just one well-lit commons area and the three other people who usually inhabited it.

For as long as she could remember, Sarina had been different even among her genetically augmented peers. She couldn't move as quickly, or react to things like they did – for the most part, Sarina’s world was unfocused and imprecise, with the occasional hard-won window of clarity. Although she often wished she could interact with, or even just speak to her friends, she’d long ago given up on any hope that the Institute’s doctors would be able to do anything to help her. So, the now-young woman spent her days sitting very still in the well-lit common area that made up her world and putting all of her energy into observing the only other three people who lived in it.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be doing that.” Patrick’s soft, guileless voice just barely breached the outer edges of Sarina’s awareness. He was off in the corner with Jack, who was currently committing his advanced intelligence to cracking the Institute’s file security protocols. Patrick, who was the oldest of the four of them, seemed to take it on as his personal responsibility to keep Jack out of trouble, though that was a difficult job for _anyone_ , let alone someone with Patrick’s more yielding nature.

 _“That’s what they want you to think!”_ Jack’s snapped back, which instantly discouraged the older man. Patrick retreated back toward the girls, seeking assistance, while Jack continued on, heedlessly:

“Do you know _why_ these files are inaccessible? Hm? Hm? Why this place has different wards separated by _‘level of severity’_? Huh? Do you?” He shot off his questions in his usual rapid-fire cadence, before immediately growing impatient and answering himself, “It’s to keep us mutants apart! Reduce solidarity! Divide and conquer! They don’t want us to know what’s going on here, but _I’m_ going to know.”

“And here I thought you _already_ knew everything.” Lauren’s voice was smooth and languid, her posture relaxed and ostensibly beckoning. Patrick had taken shelter beside her on the divan, and Jack, apparently, was not foolish enough to challenge her protection. Instead, he made a short, disparaging sound, and returned to poking around in the Institute’s classified files.

The others made no further action to stop him. Neither of them had really wanted to in the first place. The Institute’s staff often warned them about putting too much faith in Jack, that he was just trying to rile them up, but it was too late for that, they _already_ believed in Jack. For Sarina, he was the embodiment of energy and passion; always moving, always talking, so dissimilar from her own stillness and quiet. He, for the most part, lacked a certain level of _tact_ , but, there was also an undefinable quality about him that never failed to draw them in. Perhaps, it was just that Jack was a person who deserved to be believed in.

“Ah ha! Ah haha _HA!”_

The triumphant call rang out from the corner of the room as Jack leapt to his feet with superhuman grace. He was across the room in an instant.

“What is it Jack? See something you like?” Lauren managed to say with a sly smirk before she had a data PADD thrust in her direction.

Jack held the PADD with an expression that was bursting with discovery, “Look at _this!_ Look!”

Lauren took the screen far less hastily than Jack appreciated, but her eyes lit up once she saw the content of the data. “A letter from Doctor Bashir.”

“Look what it _says_. Go on! Look!” Jack had already taken to jittering slightly, impatient.

“He has a treatment plan for Sarina’s condition.” At this Sarina looked up as well, using every bit of her will to focus on the conversation. _A treatment plan from Doctor Bashir?_ She watched as Lauren sped through the document, absorbing the information at a rate that seemed to be near-instantaneous. Then she smiled, “Oh, _clever_.”

“I _told_ you they were hiding things from us! Didn’t I tell you?” Jack continued on while the PADD was passed to Patrick, who also processed the information at an incredible speed. By the time he’d walked the short distance to Sarina’s sitting place, he’d already been through the entire file.

“Oh, this looks very good!” Patrick’s tone was sweet and hopeful, and he smiled excitedly as he handed the PADD over to Sarina, at last, for her inspection.

“Not that good.” Jack huffed. _“‘May be able to perform the procedure in a few months’?_ What does he need all that time for? Is he going on vacation?”

The conversation going on around her quickly blurred into the background as Sarina centered her incomplete focus on the PADD in her hands. It was not as easy for her, to glance at the words and comprehend them as fully as her peers, but as she studied the words and began to piece together their meaning, she felt her long-suppressed hope return to her. Doctor Bashir wasn’t like any of the doctors she’d been to over the last eighteen years; he was genetically engineered as well, the _only_ genetically engineered doctor she knew of. Perhaps he would be the one to finally help her.

“Maybe he needs help?” Patrick’s curious supposition drew her awareness back to the room, and she saw Jack staring at her, looking for something. If it was interest on her part, he evidently found it somewhere on her otherwise inexpressive countenance, because his movements quickly gained purpose, and soon he was striding toward the large drawing board that he used for mapping out plans.

“Fine. If he needs help we’ll give it to him.” He said, staring up at the board, his mind already lightyears ahead of that decision. After a beat he turned back to his fellows and snapped again, “ _Well then?_ We’re agreed aren’t we? What are you all waiting for? Hm? Hm? An invitation? _Let’s get started:_ what’s our strategy?”

And just like that, Sarina Douglas was heading down a road that would change the course of her life.

\----

Doctor Julian Bashir practically barreled into the Infirmary, panting slightly from exertion. His hair was a mess, sticking up obstinately at all angles and his uniform was hanging off of his narrow frame unusually, revealing the hasty nature in with it was put on. It wasn’t exactly the most professional look, but in his own defense, it wasn’t like he’d _expected_ to be roused in the wee hours of the morning due to an unexpected emergency that _apparently_ only he could handle. He wasn’t even on-call tonight!

Still, he had dutifully made his way here as quickly as was possible, and upon not seeing the obvious signs of a life-or-death situation, kept his cool long enough to say with impressive equanimity, “Doctor Bashir reporting. What’s the emergency?”

 _“Finally.”_ The oddly serious voice that answered shocked him for a moment. He recognized it easily - except for the _tone_ , which was _way_ off - and for a moment Julian thought he might still be partially asleep. The Doctor’s enhanced ability to monitor and regulate his own body’s functions, however, told him very clearly that he was _not_ asleep and this was _not_ a dream.

 _“Patrick?”_ Julian replied, bewildered, and his astonishment only increased when the older man’s serious façade dropped instantly at the sound of his name, only to be replaced by his usual cheerful smile. It didn’t seem possible, but here Patrick was, dressed in an _Admiral’s uniform_ no less, and flanked on either side by… “Jack, Lauren… _How_ are you _here?”_

“We rode in a real _Excelsior_ -class starship!” Patrick replied first, his tone back to the child-like candor that Julian was accustomed to from the man. The words themselves, though, were not enough to soothe Julian’s frayed nerves.

“It wasn’t that impressive.” Jack shrugged nonchalantly, straightening his own un-earned Starfleet uniform. That, of course, was the last straw.

 _“What are you doing here?”_ Julian snapped, tired and irritated, and not at all liking wherever this was going. Patrick retreated a little from the harsher tone, while Jack took a few steps forward.

“Isn’t it _obvious?”_ Jack asked facetiously, before immediately re-considering and turning back to Lauren, who was clad in her own appropriated Starfleet uniform, to ask again, “ _Isn’t_ it obvious?”

“We see each other again for less than twenty seconds and already he’s swept away by lust.” Lauren gave a coy smile, “Let’s try to keep it professional, Doctor.”

Julian grimaced, “Will _one of you_ take this seriously?”

“What’s up with you? You wanted Sarina here, well here she is!”

Punctuating that statement, Jack stepped to the side with an unveiling ‘ta-da’-like motion, and gestured plainly to the young woman sitting silently on one of the biobeds. Suddenly Julian was able to put all the pieces together.

“ _Sarina?_ Is that what this is about?” He didn’t know how the quartet had gotten ahold of the information, which was sent privately to Doctor Loews at the Institute, but he supposed he should have expected something like this. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts enough to explain. “I was considering bringing Sarina here for treatment when I was _ready_. But I still have to modify my surgical equipment before I can begin the procedure.”

Jack waved a hand, like he could physically brush aside those problems like dust, “Don’t worry about that, _we’ll_ help you. Now, less talking and more doctoring. Chop, chop.”

Julian was scowling now, agitated and feeling uncomfortably responsible for the whole situation. “Do you have _any_ idea how much trouble you could get in for impersonating Starfleet officers?”

The serious tone was meant more for Jack, but, predictably, it hit Patrick more and Jack not at all. “You didn’t say anything about us getting into trouble, Jack.” The older man cried softly, distressed.

“That’s because we _won’t_. We didn’t get caught, did we? Hm?” Jack questioned, unrepentant, before turning challenging eyes back to Julian, “Unless Doctor Starfleet here decides to rat on us. _Again_.”

Any retort that the doctor could have given to that was halted when Patrick came up to him and asked, clearly frightened, “What are they going to do to us, Julian?”

With a deep breath and a concentrated effort, Julian put on his best reassuring smile and said in as placating a way as possible, “Oh, it’s all right. I’ll find a way to straighten this out. _Somehow_.”

He knew it wouldn’t be easy. He had a hard enough time trying to excuse the group’s actions the last time they were here, and he was more than a little concerned that any protestations now would not be as well received. But, he supposed he would cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he was a doctor, in his Infirmary, with a patient that needed his help. He moved closer to the biobed and smiled at Sarina, who was staring straight ahead, seemingly disconnected from the world around her.

“Hello again, Sarina. I think I may be able to help you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the Deep Space Nine theme music would play, by the way. So ends the "teaser" part of Act One.  
> Quick note: This is my first large-ish story in a very long time, so I would appreciate any feedback on how to better to improve my writing. Also, to go with the theme of this piece, I am actively trying to keep any casual ableism out of the fic's meta. Though some of the characters may be ableist, I at no point intend the actual story to be, and as the theme of the fic deals with internalized ableism, it would be the height of irony to allow it to be so. I welcome all critiques on this matter.


	2. Act One

“Oh no…”

Ezri Dax realized her mistake just a moment too late, as she stepped out of the turbolift onto the Operations floor. _At three in the morning._

Jadzia Dax used to arrive early to work on some of her technical experiments in relative peace, but, unfortunately for everyone involved, _Jadzia_ didn’t work here anymore. _‘And definitely not at 300 hours. Come on, let’s get it together, Dax!’_

She caught some of the science officers staring at her, and waved a little at them, awkwardly. To their credit, most of them waved back, but it was with some level of uncertainty and confusion. She used to _know_ those people, work with them, but now they looked at her like the strange new-arrival she technically _was_. The Trill sighed, dejected, and then hastily turned on her heel to head back to the lift. She didn’t know _how_ she was going to get back to sleep tonight, but if she was going to make any progress on it, she’d better get started soon.

Before she could re-enter the turbolift to head back down to the habitat ring, however, the doors swished open, revealing Captain Benjamin Sisko, looking both tired and fierce, and ready to storm up and into his office. There couldn’t have _been_ a more welcome sight.

“Ben!” Ezri called out, just the sight of her old friend helping to settle her nerves a bit.

Benjamin for his part stopped in his tracks, and his expression faded from one of agitation to one of fondness tinged with confusion, “Dax? What are you doing here? It’s 0300.”

 _‘Yeah, no kidding.’_ Dax wanted to say, but she held back. “Er, _well…”_ She began instead, looking around like she could find the answer to that question written somewhere on the Operations room’s walls, but unfortunately they remained as stubbornly blank as ever. She gave up, shaking her head, _“Don’t ask.”_

Realization dawned on the captain’s face and Ezri felt her spots heating up from embarrassment. Part of her – a big part of her – still felt the need to look good in front of a new superior officer, but another, persistent part of her remembered that she’d seen Benjamin do things _a lot_ more humiliating than accidently showing up to work early, back when the ambitious kid was still a _lieutenant_.

Or, _Curzon_ Dax did at least...

She tried to keep most of her internal confusion out of her expression as she pressed on, feeling the part of her that was still Jadzia take the conversational helm. “And yourself? This is pretty early even for you Ben.”

The man sighed, some of the stress coming back into his features but none of the previous anger, and then gestured for her to follow him into his office.

\----

“Do you remember the four genetically-enhanced humans that came to the station about a year ago?” Ben asked once he was seated behind his desk.

The newest part of her remained awkwardly standing, while the slightly older part smiled ironically, “Who could forget?” Jadzia remembered the quartet well enough – their statistical analysis resulted in some of the more brilliant strategies against the Dominion, though, those same calculations also nearly lead them to give the Federation up to its enemies. But, like with most things, Ezri found she saw the situation differently than her predecessor.

“Well, they’re back, after falsifying records, boarding a Federation starship _without_ authorization, and last but not least _, impersonating a Starfleet Admiral and his staff!”_ Sisko fumed, gathering intensity as he went on. The Trill almost chuckled, Benjamin could get so touchy over broken rules, despite the fact that Dax knew him to be quite the accomplished rule-breaker himself.

Instead, she felt herself smirk in a way that seemed familiar, but still pulled strangely at her lips. “Well, look on the bright side: if they were looking for a career in advancing security protocols, it sounds like they’ve got the job.”

“I wish _I_ could find this funny.” Sisko’s stare was flat, and for a moment her confidence and ease faltered. She was still new, a stranger, was it still okay to make jokes like that? _‘Come on, Ezri, don’t mess this one up!’_

“Oh, right. Of course. No, not funny.” She backpedaled a bit, straightening up slightly, but a second glance told her that Ben was more put-upon than angry. Her friend was probably far more upset about having to _report_ this than he was about any actual crime. She chanced another smile, “But, you have to admit, it _is_ kind of impressive.”

“I doubt _Starfleet_ will see it that way.” He said, rubbing his brow and admitting nothing.

Ezri frowned, wondering what this was really all about. “Why did they -” She began, but was cut off by the door chime chirping. Ben offered her a cursory apologetic look, before sitting up and calling out, “Come in!”

Julian Bashir was three strides into the room before the doors finished swishing open, his face set. “Sir-” He started, then faltered slightly at the unexpected sight of Ezri - but he regained his composure quick enough and turned to face the captain. “May I please have a word with you?”

Ben nodded. “I take it this is about your genetically engineered friends?”

“Yes, sir.” The doctor took a steadying breath. “I would like to request that Starfleet not bring up charges against them.”

There was a short pause in which Ezri wondered if it would be a good idea to quietly excuse herself from the room. It wasn’t like she was supposed to be here, after all. But before she could gather up the wits to make a smooth getaway, Benjamin was speaking again, looking the doctor square in the eyes.

“Well, I hope you have a _very_ good reason for that request.”

Ezri saw Julian set his shoulders before plunging onward, “Sir, they only wanted to bring Sarina to me so I could _help_ her. They meant well.”

“They _meant_ well?!” The captain boomed, “ _That's_ the same excuse you gave me when they were caught trying to pass military secrets to the Dominion!”

Ezri winced slightly. This wasn’t going too great. She fought with herself over whether or not she should interfere with the proceedings, or say something to Ben – possibly along the lines of how, not so long ago, he’d asked her to remind him to never make rash decisions in the middle of the night. Or, he’d asked _Jadzia_ Dax at least - that counted, right?

Meanwhile, Benjamin was building up a bit of momentum.

“Doctor, I _appreciate_ that you feel a connection to them because you're genetically engineered yourself, but they have displayed a _consistent disregard_ for the rules that the rest of society lives by!”

She saw Julian tense slightly when Ben said the words ‘genetically engineered’, and an odd look cross the doctor’s face, but the expression was gone before Ezri could even begin to try to place it. 

“Maybe that’s because they’re not allowed to _live in society_.”

Julian’s tone was probably more acerbic than he meant it to be, but Ben didn’t seem to react to it other than to put up his hand in a silent signal that that was enough. “I’m not trying to _defend_ Federation policy toward the genetically enhanced. I’m trying to figure out how to _justify_ convincing Starfleet to drop charges on a group of Federation citizens who, for _whatever_ purposes, have shown the ability and willingness to use unlawful methods to achieve their goals.”

 _‘Oh, so that’s what’s happening.’_ Ezri thought, feeling all the pieces click into place. Dax knew that Benjamin didn’t agree with Federation policy, he’d said as much to her before when Julian’s genetic status first came out, and then again during the last incident with the four from the Institute. It was for that reason that Ben had talked Starfleet out of seeking disciplinary action in either case; but this situation was reaching the limits of what he could justify for himself. He was an activist at heart, but a Starfleet officer in duty, and he was never happy when he couldn’t reconcile those things. _‘Someone ought to give him some perspective,’_ some older part of Dax thought, and suddenly Ezri found herself blurting out,

“Maybe they’re connected!”

For a moment everything stopped as the two men looked over at her in surprise, like they’d momentarily forgotten she was still in the room. She fidgeted a little under the sudden attention, but quickly forced down her nervousness and pushed on, _Okay_ , “Hear me out: how many Federation citizens would _need_ to use methods like that just to see a doctor about a treatment plan? I mean, this station isn’t exactly _military personnel only_ , if any other civilians needed Dr. Bashir’s consultation all they would have to do is book transport here and make an appointment. _But_ , it’s not so easy in their case.”

“They would need to get permission from the Institute, and even _then_ there are prohibitions on what class of starship they could travel on, due to what happened on the _Enterprise_ in 2267. At most they’d only be allowed to travel on standard carrier-class starships, which probably wouldn’t be the fastest or the safest way to travel across the quadrant, much less to a station on the edge of a _warzone_. And…” Ezri paused, suddenly realizing that she was edging toward rambling, and that both of her fellow officers were staring at her in open shock. She had never been this loquacious _before_ the Joining, and she honestly wasn’t sure where it came from. She ducked her head a little sheepishly, “I’m going let you finish your discussion.”

She smiled apologetically at Julian. “Sorry.” At least she knew where the excessively contrite part of her nature came from. ‘ _Poor Tobin,’_ she thought, as she resisted the urge to bite at her nails.

Fortunately, at least Julian seemed re-energized at her unexpected assistance, and he shook his head emphatically, “No, don’t be, you’re absolutely right.” Before turning back to the captain yet again, “Sir, you can’t ignore this situation’s context. They didn’t commit these crimes out of malice or deviance. They lied in order to gain access to rights that should be given to all citizens of the Federation, and I, for one, certainly understand that is sometimes _necessary_.”

Already, Ezri could see that the argument had finally won Ben over. The agitated, conflicted set in the captain’s shoulders had faded away to just the usual tiredness and his face had already relaxed into the distinctly paternal expression that Ben had given Julian since the day the young doctor arrived on the station, but that Ezri was sure the younger man never noticed.

“They were _only_ trying to help their friend get the medical treatment she deserves.” Julian finished, looking at the older man imploringly.

“Doctor...” Ben began, but then seemed to decide against whatever it was he was about to say at the last second and instead switched focus, “What about this procedure?”

Julian, apparently, knew a possible reprieve when he saw one, and quickly produced a PADD with the medical details already laid out on-screen.

“Here’s a copy of the procedure outline I submitted to the Institute. Doctor Loews, Sarina's legal guardian, has given her consent.” The doctor explained quickly, while Benjamin quietly went over the documents. “There are still a few technical issues that I have to work on, but I feel confident that I can iron them all out. There's no guarantee that it'll work, of course, but if it does it could change _everything_ for her.”

“You've put in a lot of time on this, haven't you?” The captain glanced up from the PADD to look the doctor in the eyes.

“I owe it to her, sir.” He admitted, “I could have ended up the same way as Sarina, but I was lucky. My DNA re-sequencing didn't have any unintended side effects.”

Ben nodded. “All right, Doctor. You take care of Sarina, _I'll_ take care of Starfleet.”

Julian’s grin could have lit its own solar system. “Thank you, sir!”

Ezri could tell from the look of disbelief in the young _(technically older, Dax!)_ man’s eyes that he had not entirely expected to succeed at this. The Trill smiled; how _had_ Julian managed to work here for nearly seven years and not seen passed his superior officer’s gruff, intimidating exterior to the fond, proud feelings underneath? _‘You really ought to give the kid more hugs, Benjamin.’_

Once again, Dax, he’s _technically older than you!_

While Ezri was trying to sort out how she felt about being near 400 years old, when previously she had just barely gotten used to the idea of being _thirty,_ Julian flashed a quick, grateful smile her way and then bolted out the door.

She watched the door swish shut, and realized it was just her and Ben again. She heard her old friend give a long-suffering sigh and glanced back apologetically. “Sorry.” She said, but it was a little different than earlier, Tobin Dax could rest easily. She wasn’t feeling any _guilt_ , just plain old sympathy.

“What for?” Ben looked up, smiling. “I’m about to have a very… _interesting_ conversation with Starfleet.”

“It’s not the hardest case you’ve had to sell.” Dax smiled back, and Benjamin laughed at what must have seemed like the understatement of the century. He stood and rounded his desk, before sitting back against it so they were standing face to face a few paces apart.

“What do you think of Dr. Bashir?” The non sequitur threw her off guard a bit, and apparently her expression gave that away because Ben immediately clarified: “ _Professionally_ , old man.”

 _Professionally_. Right, of course, right! What other- what _other way_ could there possibly be? Of course. Professionally.

Ben was grinning now, all teeth, silently laughing at her, and Ezri felt her spots warm up again. She shot him a dirty look before turning her focus to seriously answering the question. What did she think?

“I think he’s a very good doctor, very dedicated to his work – maybe a little _too_ dedicated at times.” She admitted, mulling it over, recalling not only the new experiences, but the old ones with Jadzia as well. “But this case is different. It’s definitely closer to home.”

 _There but for the grace of God go I._ She remembered Julian saying those words the last time the quartet from the Institute was on board the station. _I owe it to her._ He’d said, just a few seconds ago. Yes, this was something that was close to home for Julian, and Ezri worried just how much.

Ben seemed to be on the same page as well. “I thought as much. I want you to keep an eye on him, Counselor. Situations like this tend to get… complicated.”

 _Counselor_. Yes, that _was_ her job wasn’t it? Not legislator, or engineer, or gymnast, or commissioner, or pilot, or ambassador, or _science officer_ , but station’s counselor. Not that she had much to show for it at the moment… She wasn’t even completely sure that she was _ready_ to practice on her own, and things didn’t exactly go smoothly the last time she tried.

That being said, she had the job.

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

\----

Later that day, at a more work-appropriate time, Julian Bashir found himself leaning over an advanced neuralprobe surgical table – recently relocated to the cargo bay – watching Jack methodically take the valuable piece of equipment apart.

“I have the procedure all mapped out and I _know_ I have the ability to execute it – there are just no tools _accurate_ enough to accomplish what I’m proposing. I’ve been told _repeatedly_ that the scale I need to operate at is physically impossible.” He explained, staring concernedly at the back of the man’s head as he ducked down under the probe.

A split second later, Jack popped up again, face slightly greased and looking affronted, _“Impossible?_ For who? Them? _Everything’s_ impossible to them.”

“Do you think you can do it?” Julian asked, barely daring to be a little hopeful. He was holding tightly onto a PADD with the specs he was going to need the probe functioning at if the procedure was going to have any chance at succeeding.

Jack glanced down at the PADD, and then back to the doctor. His expression was serious, and when he spoke he seemed to make a concentrated effort to speak slower. “If you had this, then you’d be able to do it, right? Heal Sarina? Make her like the rest of us?”

As a doctor, he couldn’t make promises like that. There were too many variables in medicine, even completely routine procedures, to be able to make those kinds of guarantees. Not to mention it was widely regarded as unethical. But Jack’s eyes were harsh and calculating, and he knew the other man wasn’t going to accept the same _‘I’ll do what I can’s_ and _‘there’s no guarantee’s_ he would normally employ in this situation. He wasn’t going to accept anything less than the impossible from Julian.

_Are you a mutant, or aren’t you?_

“Yes.” He heard himself answering, despite the uneasy feeling it gave him, and silently closed off every avenue of himself that would have allowed for failure.

Jack’s harsh look disappeared as if it never was, the more common mix of impatience and determination returning, and with it his increased tempo. “Then what are you waiting for? Huh? Give me that!”

Jack snatched the PADD of necessary specifications from the doctor’s hands and then disappeared into the surgical probe’s mechanical insides yet again. _Well, that was that,_ Julian thought still shaking off his unease, now all he could do was try to prepare. He headed over to the other side of the room where Lauren was gently combing out Sarina’s hair.

“There. Don’t you look pretty?” The older woman cooed, holding up a small mirror for Sarina’s inspection. To Julian she didn’t seem to react at all, but Lauren smiled fondly anyway.

After a moment’s hesitation Julian approached, taking out his tricorder as he did so. “Hello, Sarina.” He greeted gently, kneeling beside where she was seated so they were closer to eye-level. “Do you mind if I take a few preliminary scans?”

Once again, Julian didn’t see anything he could count as a reaction one way or another, but Lauren seemed to see otherwise, “She’s afraid it’s going to hurt.”

“It won’t hurt. You can trust me.” He maneuvered himself to try to catch Sarina’s gaze.

“You’ll be in good hands.” Lauren agreed, and then smiled down at Julian slyly. _“Very_ good hands. Oh, don’t get your hopes up, Doctor. It’s over between us. I’ve moved on.”

“What a shame.” The doctor replied sarcastically, turning on his device to record Sarina’s current status.

After a few moments, Lauren spoke again, her gaze on Jack, but her words directed at Julian, “It must have taken a lot of courage to come and ask Jack for help again. And I thought men were all pride.”

“No, not really…” Julian glanced back toward the probe, where it seemed that Patrick had joined in the efforts to update the machine, kneeling in close to look at what Jack was working on:

“It looks like a problem with the electric imaging terminals. Maybe you could-?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I _know_. I’m not _inept_. The crystalline semiconductor diodes here need to be enhanced. Here hold this. _Hold_ it!”

The doctor sighed. “I just hope this _works_.”

\----

A few hours later, Julian had just finished up all of the necessary pre-operation checks and documentations, when Jack’s victorious shout rang through the refitted cargo bay.

“Done!”

Julian shot up from his seated position on one of the settees and hurried over to look, “Already?”

“Of course! ‘Impossible’ – ha! What do they know? Nothing.” Jack boasted, happily circling his newest creation. The look was definitely patched-together, but not too outlandishly, and somehow, just looking at it, Julian was sure it would work. Jack leaped into place beside him and wrapped an arm around the doctor’s shoulders, “This baby’s so accurate you could carve your _initials_ onto an _electron_.”

“I somehow doubt that’s going to be necessary.” Julian said, smiling. He was planning out how to best test the upgraded probe’s functionality; he wanted to make sure everything was up to specs before he would risk using it on Sarina.

“You could re-write someone’s genes with this.”

Julian felt his insides go cold, and he turned Jack with a look of shock and dismay.

For a short moment Jack looked back with complete seriousness, then the moment was gone and the man grinned wildly, patted him twice, roughly, on the back, and shouted, “Let’s start it up!”

Julian hesitated for a moment, watching Jack go over to the probe and begin the startup sequence. He once again felt a nagging sense of unease, but then slowly he stepped forward and put his hands on the machine.

\----

“All right Sarina, everything’s all set up and ready to go.”

Sarina heard the doctor’s voice float to her as if from far away. She was lying on the surgical bed, the one Jack refitted, this time in the Infirmary and surrounded by nurses. She silently wished her friends were here, but guests weren’t allowed in surgery.

This was nerve-racking. What if the procedure didn’t work?

Or, what if it _did?_ What would it feel like? To be able to move and run around, and talk and laugh like the others? Would a girl who could do those things even be the same as the girl she was right now, who couldn’t? How did that work?

Of course, none of these tumultuous thoughts were given any voice, and they wouldn’t be unless the procedure was a success. But Doctor Bashir seemed to notice her apprehension anyway, and she was reminded that this wasn’t one of her usual physicians.

“You’ll be fine _, I promise_.” The only genetically engineered doctor in existence said, and Sarina believed him.

She closed her eyes as the neurosurgical probe descended over her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends Act One of the episode. Ezri Dax has made an early appearance as well, and she'll be featured fairly prominently in this telling. I hope all of the character's dialogue sounded right, I haven't written for any of them before, so I'm still trying to get used to it. Constructive criticism is always welcome.


	3. Act Two

“It’s been five days now. Five _days_ and _still_ no signs of increased responsiveness, no activity in the thalamic pathways I generated... As far as I can tell the procedure did _nothing.”_

Ezri watched as Julian slumped further down in his chair. After five days she had finally managed to get the doctor out of the Infirmary, after near-constant prodding, but of course his mind was still back there, with Sarina. But, while Julian was busy being worried about his patient, Ezri was worrying about him.

He wasn’t someone who accepted failure easily, probably because it happened so very rarely for him. It was a good quality to have in a doctor, but a pretty terrible one to have in yourself, Ezri knew.

“You did everything you could.”

“Well it wasn’t enough!”

Ezri expected the angry response, more self-deprecating than any sort of actual lashing out. The man was sitting at the table right across from her at the Replimat, staring blankly at his untouched meal and looking utterly defeated. The last time she, er, _Jadzia_ , had seen him this way was on the Teplan homeworld almost three years ago, after losing all of his patients to the Dominion’s _Blight_.

But that situation was different, people _died_. Sarina wasn’t dead, or anywhere close to it, and so Ezri didn’t think it was helping anyone to grieve over her like this. _‘Someone’s got to remind him of that.’_

And that someone, of course, was going to have to be her.

“Julian - Sarina’s life signs are as strong as ever, she shows no signs of a deteriorating condition – you _did no harm_.” She stressed, leaning forward on the table slightly so she could catch the doctor’s eyes. She then continued a little more softly, “So the procedure didn’t work out, so what? You can still take what you learned from this and continue your research, and maybe, someday, you’ll find the answer.”

Julian shook his head. “That’s if any of them will ever _trust_ me like this again.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” The counselor asked cautiously, realizing there was more to this story than she knew.

“I was careless and arrogant.” Julian scoffed at himself, “I made promises I now can’t possibly keep. I told them I could _cure_ her. Now I have to tell them I was wrong.”

Oh, _of course_. It wasn’t about what was different about the two situations, it was what was the same. Being overconfident was a trait that Julian had struggled with for a while, and it was likely that it was the _personal_ failure, rather than the actual one, that was really the underlying cause of his melancholy. That was something she should have _realized_. _‘Alright, focus, Dax.’_

“That _does_ sound pretty arrogant.” The Trill agreed, taking on a conciliatory tone.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” He answered back without any heat.

“No.” She began, shrugging nonchalantly, “I just thought maybe you needed a second opinion. You know, before you decide to stop feeling sorry for yourself and go apologize. That _is_ why you're still here, right?”

She concluded in a matter-of-fact tone that made Julian smile _just_ slightly. At least it was something.

“You're right, of course - but I _still_ feel terrible.” He admitted, before sitting up a bit and running a hand through his hair. “I’ve barely gotten any sleep this week, I probably _look_ terrible.”

“I wasn’t going to mention it.” She grinned at him, but the doctor was looking at something behind her.

“Hold on a minute.” He said, standing and heading off in that direction before she could even ask what was wrong. Without having to think, Ezri stood and followed him out onto the Promenade where, surprisingly, she found Sarina standing a little ways apart from the crowd and looking around.

“Sarina?” Julian cautioned, moving closer to the young woman, “What are you looking at?”

There was a brief pause, and then Sarina’s eyes shifted to meet the doctors, and she answered, _“Everything.”_

Ezri audibly gasped, and Sarina turned her head to look, visibly astonished. “You _heard_ me?”

The younger woman’s voice was a little hoarse and distorted in a way that was to be expected after eighteen years of disuse. The counselor wasn’t sure how to _respond_ , she was so surprised, and, of course, delighted, at this change of events.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to as Julian replied for her, in a voice equally astonished,

“Sarina, you _spoke_.”

\----

After the big revelation, Julian had rushed them all back to the Infirmary so he could do more scans. He looked significantly better now that Sarina was showing signs of recovery, which was _great_. Ezri just hoped that didn’t mean he was going to forget about why he’d been upset in the first place.

But, she guessed, now wasn’t really the time for that.

She looked over at Sarina, who was sitting quietly on the biobed, looking pointedly at everything in the room like it was brand new to her. She was smiling, and Ezri took that as a good sign. The Trill remembered the first few days after she’d been Joined, when everything had been strange and new and frightening. All of the extra knowledge and feelings – suddenly knowing all the technical names for the parts of the ship she was on, looking at old friends and feeling like she was meeting them for the first time, _not to mention_ that whole confusing muddle about what foods she liked – had jumbled together inside of her with the force of a blender and she’d been space-sick for a _week_.

Fortunately, it seemed like the transition was going a little smoother for Sarina.

After a moment or two, Ezri decided to approach the younger woman, giving a small, awkward wave and a smile, “Hi. My name is... Dax. _Ezri_. Ezri Dax.” She smiled sheepishly. Who else would stumble over their own name? But she shook it off quickly, “I’m the station’s counselor. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m… Sarina.” The reply was soft, though still distorted. She would probably need speech therapy to resolve that, but that was something that could be done when she returned home. For now, though, the counselor thought it would be best to focus on Sarina’s physical condition, and of course, make sure she was adjusting alright.

“How are you feeling?” Ezri asked, watching Sarina for any signs of becoming uneasy.

“Different.” She replied, after considering it a while. “But, good.”

Ezri smiled, happy for her, and then stepped back and out of the way as Julian returned from where he’d been analyzing Sarina’s readings using the computer. He was exuberant.

“Everything checks out. The neural pathways _all_ seem to be functioning.” He said, running his tricorder over Sarina again, though he’d done so a few times already. “There’s an _astonishing_ amount of activity in your cerebral cortex. It was already capable of processing information at an enormous rate, but it’s only now that it’s actually _receiving_ that information.”

“It’s incredible.” Sarina agreed, before smiling oddly at Julian’s medical scanner.

Ezri noticed the expression and asked, “What is it?”

“Listen.” She said, and the three of them were quiet for a moment, listening. The medical tricorder in Julian’s hand made its little whirring noise. Sarina smiled again, “It’s nice.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t noticed that before.” Julian said, listening still.

“It’s the first sound I heard clearly after I woke up, when you checked on me this morning.” She continued, looking up at Julian now, “You seemed so worried, I wanted to thank you for all you were trying to do for me. Thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me, I’m glad I could help.”

Once the medical scanner finished its job and Julian tucked it away again, Sarina looked around a little searchingly before turning to Julian again and asking, “Can I go see the others?”

“I don’t see why not. Let’s go.” The doctor said, helping Sarina to stand up. Ezri saw him spare a glace her way, slightly apologetic, probably for bailing on lunch. The Trill waved it off easily, and waved goodbye to Sarina as Julian escorted her to the refitted cargo bay where her friends were waiting.

\----

“Hello everyone.”

Sarina said the first words she’d ever spoken aloud to her friends, and though, on the whole, they seemed terribly inadequate, the reaction from everyone was still one of joy.

“Did you hear that? Did you hear what she said?”

“I don't think I've heard a more beautiful sound in my life.”

“It was my idea to bring you here.”

“We missed you!”

“You look so different.”

“Aren't you going to thank me?”

“Did the surgery hurt?”

All at once her friends began to talk to her - _Patrick, Lauren, Jack_ \- she was so grateful she recognized them all. “There's so much I want to say to all of you.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

That was Jack. Of course he would be the first one to mention it; he was honest that way. Still, she felt embarrassed. Funnily enough, out of all the fears she’d had going into this, not being able to pronounce her vowels completely had not been among them.

“Quiet.” Lauren scolded, and Sarina was glad to see the older woman’s protective nature so distinctly. Their personalities no longer just an impression for her, but presented to her now, so _clearly_.

“ _There's so much I want to say to all of you. There's so much I want to say to all of you_.” Jack mimicked, affecting her tone to prove his point.

 _“Jack!”_ This time it was Doctor Bashir who became defensive on her behalf, but she put up a hand to keep him from scolding Jack any further.

“No, he's right. I can hear the way I sound.”

“Don't worry, it's only temporary. It just takes a little practice.” The doctor said, frowning and trying to sound reassuring at the same time. There was really no need – even if she could _never_ sound like everyone else, at least she _could speak._ That was enough of a gift to her.

“Practice! Ah, practice. Good idea.” Jack seemed to consider this for a moment, before running up to her and singing, “Listen to this, Sarina: _Do ray mi fa so la ti do.”_

The sound was beautiful. She hadn’t ever heard Jack sing, even before the procedure, but she supposed she couldn’t say she was surprised he was excellent at it. It was about a second later, when Sarina saw the growing frustration and impatience on Jack’s face that she realized she was supposed to repeat.

“Do ray mi fa so la ti do.” She tried, entirely unsuccessfully.

Jack’s face deadpanned, “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong is _you_.” Lauren answered, pushing Jack out of the way to try herself, this time higher and smoother, _“Do ray mi fa so la ti do.”_

Sarina concentrated and tried again, “Do ray _mi_ fa _so la ti do_.”

“Much better.” Lauren praised, and they tried again.

Soon the notes came easier, and the music more challenging. Jack and Patrick joined in as well, now that she had the basics down, and soon they were all singing in complex harmonics. It was exhilarating being able to do this, and she rejoiced at how easy it all came to her – like how some things came easy to Jack, Patrick and Lauren. She no longer had to be quiet and still.

Still singing happily, Sarina looked over at Doctor Bashir, who had finally been the one to help her, and to her surprise, saw a similar feeling mirrored on the doctor’s face. Like something long-awaited had finally arrived.

\----

“It was _amazing_. Within a few minutes, Sarina's voice just _took off_. That kind of improvement usually takes _weeks_ of speech therapy.”

Ezri thought about comparing the phenomenon to a certain doctor going from a complete wreck just hours before to the excited, animated man she was looking at now, but decided against it.

“It looks like things are going well for her. How did she seem around her friends?” She asked, curious about how they got along now that things had changed so much for Sarina. It would be a terrible time for her to become alienated from her peers.

She and Julian were walking around the Promenade, where they’d met up with each other after Julian had taken Sarina back to the Infirmary to get some rest.

“I think she was glad to see them again, and they were certainly pleased to see _her_.” Julian answered her question, but didn’t go into any more detail. Instead he continued to enthusiastically praise her success. “Honestly, she’s progressing better than I’d have _ever_ anticipated. It’s a _complete_ transformation. If things continue at this rate I may be able to pronounce her fully recovered in a matter of _days_.”

“Remember, though, it’s not an _actual_ transformation,” Ezri warned, hating to interrupt Julian’s celebration, but unable to help but give a little bit of advice, “Sarina is still the same person who spent eighteen years unable to fully communicate. I don’t know how long it will take her to get to a place where she’s fully comfortable with this change, but I wouldn’t bet on it happening quickly.”

“Are you interested in taking her case?” Julian asked, a little surprised but not offended. It seemed more like he’d _just_ realized that Ezri was, in fact, the station’s counselor and may have a role to play in this.

Dax, though, wasn’t all too sure she _ought_ to have a role.

“ _Me?_ Oh, no.” She started, and then realized that might have sounded a bit offensive, and so tried again, a little easier this time, “No, I think she needs time to feel things out first. _Besides_ , she’ll have _much_ better counselors at the Institute.”

“Nonsense, you’re a great counselor, Ezri.” Julian replied, but it just sounded like the sort of thing you were supposed to say to an overly-modest friend. “Thank you, by the way, for all your support in this, you’ve been a tremendous help, and I’ll be sure to keep what you’ve said in mind.”

“Oh, don’t mention it.” She smiled self-consciously, carefully avoiding taking credit. She really didn’t feel like she’d helped much at all.

Fortunately, the doctor didn’t notice.

“And now I’d better head off – I promised Miles a round in the holosuite, and he’s probably already waiting for me down at Quark’s.” He said, beaming, and already making his way across the Promenade in long strides. Ezri really didn’t know what that man ran on – if _she’d_ been up for five days straight with a patient, she’d be ready to _collapse_. She waved a little at Julian who grinned and waved back before disappearing into the Ferengi’s bar, with the parting shout, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

\----

Julian stumbled a little into his quarters after what felt like a long night, though it was probably still early by his usual standards. Miles had eventually insisted that Julian go home after he spent most of their holosuite time either talking about Sarina or falling asleep.

He hadn’t fallen asleep _that many_ times, he’d insisted, but he really couldn’t argue with the fact that he needed to get some rest if he was going to be in any way functional tomorrow.

He turned on the light in his living quarters, and then nearly jumped out of his skin. _“Sarina?”_

He hadn’t seen her in the dark, but indeed, there Sarina was sitting on his couch. “What are you doing here?” He asked first, but then quickly switched to a more perplexing question, “How did you get _in?”_

Sarina was standing now, and she shrugged slightly, neither apologetic nor proud. “It wasn’t hard. Your access code only has six digits.”

The doctor sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “That doesn’t excuse your coming in here without permission.”

Sarina started a bit, and then seemed to realize her mistake. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Julian nodded, it wasn’t her fault that things like that weren’t second nature to her quite yet, but he was sure she’d be able to sort it all out soon. “It’s alright. I’m not angry. Just please don’t do it again, alright?” He smiled, but then noticed the sad look upon her face. The doctor quickly grew concerned, “Is something wrong?”

Of course, Julian’s first concern was anything medical that would have led her to seek him out like this, but Sarina quietly shook her head to dissuade him of those concerns. “It’s nothing. I just… can’t sleep.” She whispered, pacing off to the side of the room by his shelves, “I keep thinking that if I go to sleep, I’ll wake up how I was. That…”

She paused, but Julian could fill in the rest for himself. “That won’t happen. There’s nothing in your scans that even hints at a possible regression.” He reassured. “You’ll be fine.”

Sarina didn’t respond, and instead reached out to grab onto the old, patched-up toy bear that was resting proudly on one of Julian shelves. “This is a nice bear. Is it yours?”

“Ah… _yes_ , actually.” He said, fighting down the really unfortunate protective urges he still held over his teddy bear. “That’s Kukalaka.”

“That’s a nice name.” She replied back quietly, carefully holding onto the old toy and petting it’s soft worn fur. Eventually Julian relaxed and smiled at the toy fondly.

“I’ve had him for as long as I can remember – I used to take him everywhere…” He remembered, then hastily added, “When I was a _kid_.”

Sarina didn’t seem ready to mock him over it, however, and was still quietly petting the teddy bear’s fur, and smoothly running a finger over all the mismatched threads and stitches. Even the particularly uneven stitches that went around the top of the bear’s right leg.

He wasn’t completely sure what to do. He could prescribe her something to help her sleep once they got back to the Infirmary, but she seemed so distracted now. “He certainly has the marks to prove it.” He continued his story, for lack of anything better to do. “I like to say Kukalaka was my first patient – I’ve probably sewn and stitched and patched every inch of that bear.”

“Then is he still the same bear?”

The question caught Julian so completely off-guard, he didn’t know what to say. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t have been able to come up with an answer even if he hadn’t been. He didn’t know. He immediately felt a strong wave of affection and sympathy toward this young woman flood through him, though he couldn’t quite articulate why.

After a short moment, Sarina sighed, and slowly the distracted expression vanished from her features. Now she just looked at him calmly and questioningly: _what now?_

“You need to get some rest. Here, I’ll walk you back to the Infirmary.” He said at last, stepping aside so that she could move passed him toward the door. She made to put the bear back on his shelf, but the turbulent currents of the overflowing affection he felt made him hold out his hand to stop her. “You know what? Hold on to him a little while. If there’s _anyone_ qualified to watch over you while you sleep it’s Kukalaka, he has my _highest_ recommendation.”

He smiled at her, and slowly she smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Act Two! Obviously there were a few things the same here, and a few things very different. I hope it's all making sense. I'm planning on having a chapter just for notes where I go through my reasoning for all the changes I made, if anyone's interested in that. Constructive criticism always welcome!


	4. Act Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarina starts seeing things from a new perspective and it's not all great. This is Act 3, and scenes start to get quite a bit different.
> 
> A/N: BTW, for anyone actually reading this, I'm sorry I haven't updated in two years!! I haven't totally abandoned this story - I actually have had the script all written up since the beginning, it's the prose that's really difficult. This chapter was especially difficult to put into words, but I hope it turned out halfway decent. As before, all reviews and critiques are completely welcome!

“Sarina, _thank God!”_

The quick-fire voice shot through the bulkhead even before the refitted-cargo-bay’s doors began to open, and by the time Sarina took her first step inside she found herself confronted by an agitated-looking Jack. 

Earlier that morning, after Sarina awoke from a surprisingly restful sleep (perhaps there _was_ something to that ragged-looking bear), she had quickly excused herself from the infirmary under the pretense that she wanted to be with her friends. 

Not that it wasn’t true _per se_ – Sarina desperately wanted to spend more time with her friends now that she was truly capable – but the reason left _unsaid_ was a desire to avoid any awkward interactions with Dr. Bashir. He’d told her last night that he wasn’t angry about her breaking into his rooms and, so far, he seemed content with pretending the whole thing never happened - but that was proving to be much harder for Sarina. She couldn’t help but feel a great wave of embarrassment wash over her whenever she saw the doctor, and so, she decided if she was going to have any peace of mind today she was going to have to find someplace else to be. 

That, of course, was easier _thought_ than _accomplished_. 

She fully understood the irony of looking for peace anywhere around _Jack_ , of all people. He was just about the _antithesis_ of peace: he was passionate, active, confrontational – but, in a way, the familiarity was calming. As much as things had changed for Sarina over these last few days, the idea that her friends and the little world they’d created together still spun on gave her an enormous sense of relief. 

And now, she could _participate_. 

She smiled, eagerly, as she tried to keep up with Jack’s swift pace while he attempted to drag her toward the back of the room and his newly employed whiteboard. Jack tended to be a presentational person. It wasn’t that he worked any better when he drew things up, or that he couldn’t do all the necessary analysis in his head; he wanted to present his thoughts in a way that was more accessible to the others. As far as Sarina could remember, he only started this habit _after_ they began to be grouped together more regularly – a physical manifestation of the beginning of their friendship.  
  
Maybe it was because of this overly-romantic view she had that she was so surprised by what was actually _on_ it. The board was filled with equations and words in chaotic order, written aggressively and sometimes over themselves – the headline read in large, emboldened letters: **THE END IS NEAR**.  
  
She could follow the data well enough. Even when she was near-unresponsive and understanding the whiteboard was too great a hurdle for her to overcome, Patrick, Lauren, and sometimes Jack would hand her PADDs of information for her to try to sift through in her own time. As much as she was a new arrival in the world of social interaction, she was not lacking in _scientific_ knowledge. Despite that, the board gave her an _uneasy_ feeling – it was almost frightening, and not at all due to its content.

Looking at this whiteboard, Sarina felt what she thought of as the solid foundation of her life _shift_ just a tiny bit.  
  
“Nobody _else_ around here ever listens to me.” She was startled out of her thoughts by the stark bitterness of the words coming out of Jack’s mouth and her eyes snapped to his face, which was currently preoccupied with glowering darkly at the whiteboard.  
  
“Jack? What's wrong?” She asked, her voice sounding small and confused even to her own ears.  
  
Sarina liked to think that she knew a lot about Jack. Before, when she was still and silent, she had spent a great portion of her energy observing him in particular, reaching and scraping for any sensory input her mind could hold on to in order to form a clearer image of the man. She liked to think that she knew him _well_. Her perception of him, however, had always been a series of _impressions_. She had looked long and hard at him and had seen _ideas_. Ideas of passion and energy and movement and fearlessness and indomitability. To Sarina, those things were _Jack_.  
  
But now, suddenly, there were all these _details_. It took no effort to look at him now, but what she saw was so different. She saw the strained set to his body: pent up muscles twitching occasionally in controlled, but indecipherable patterns; the unnatural strength in his fidgeting digits both obvious and unnerving; his nails bitten and picked at and jagged; brown hair pulled at and clumped in careless disarray. And his eyes. Dark as wells and just as deep, they locked with hers for a fraction of a second and she saw _so much_ of him so _intensely_. There was bitterness and anger and restlessness and aggravation, and it was like a large, ugly scar across his youthfulness.  
  
_“‘What’s wrong?’”_   He snapped back, agitated and incredulous, and gestured aggressively toward the chaos encompassing the whiteboard, “There's too much _matter!_ The universe is too heavy for its own good! We have sixty, _maybe_ seventy trillion years _at most_ before the whole thing _collapses!_ ”  
  
Sarina heard the words but couldn’t even begin to contemplate the specter of a disaster Jack had conjured for the far distant future – her mind was too busy reeling from the sudden abundance of new information and how she felt and what that _meant_. She barely noticed Patrick sliding up to stand on her other side to better observe the board.  
  
“Oh no!” The older man’s soft, light voice was sad and distressed, and he looked from Jack to Sarina with an expression that clearly asked _‘isn’t there something we can do to help?’_ __  
  
Sarina looked back at him and though she would not be able to _name_ the expression on her own face, from the way tears began to gather in Patrick’s eyes it was _not_ one of reassurance. But Sarina didn’t _feel_ reassuring, she felt… confused. _Frantically_ so. Patrick’s Ideas were _sincerity_ and _compassion_ and _feeling_. His _Details_ were trembling hands; white, balding hair; teary, frightened eyes; a body more than twice her age, but with behavior that seemed to fit more naturally with the young children she had seen on the Promenade…  
  
“You need to _lighten the load_ …” Lauren mused from the divan a few meters away, lounging back suggestively and staring up at the ceiling. Lauren used to be _regality, confidence, grace_. Now she moved too provocatively; a wistless air about her; heedless of reality; frustrated when no one was looking...  
  
“Yes, yes, _yes_ , exactly!” Jack moved toward Lauren expectantly, but aborted the motion to return to the board; he bit at a nail. “We have to find some way to decrease the _mass_.”  
  
“…Of the entire universe?” Sarina felt dazed, her voice faded. She didn’t know if she was asking genuinely for clarification or if she was just thinking aloud, baffled by it all.  
  
“That's the whole _point!_ ” Jack shouted, impatient, his eyes darting to hers with exasperation clearly visible in their depths. Like he expected more from her.

She felt herself shifting back, as if retreating, but she couldn’t tell if it was from Jack or from some sort of _revelation_.  
  
“I-Is that possible?” She stumbled over her words for the first time since fixing her voice, the tone oddly pleading. Her mind was spinning, her brand new neural pathways simultaneously bombarding her with new information and analysis, while her brain tried to sort them out, tried to _calm her down._

Her thoughts seemed to race at warp speed, but none of them offered anything helpful. Her mind seemed to buzz and her body felt shivery and numb. There was a solid knot of apprehension inside her gut that refused to unravel. She felt suddenly lost.

Distantly, she could feel someone – _Patrick_ , her quick brain supplied – put a hand on her arm.

“That's what we're trying to figure out, Sarina,” his voice was concerned and soft – _infantile_ , she corrected against her will.

She wished it would all slow down for a moment. She wished she could _stop thinking._

She felt like something terrible was happening.

“What if we found a way to manipulate subspace?” Lauren proposed – _ridiculously, nonsensically_.

“Change the _cosmological constant_ ,” Jack completed the thought breathlessly, dark eyes lighting up with inspiration – _madness?_ Sarina felt her own breath hitch.  
  
“That would do the trick,” Patrick agreed happily, and finally Sarina couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
“You _can't_ change the cosmological constant!” She snapped and it was louder and harsher than she meant, but she couldn’t stop herself. “That’s _crazy_ ; you _can’t-_ ”  
  
“ _‘Crazy’_?” Jack turned on her instantly, his voice like ice, and Sarina shut her mouth with a quiet click of teeth. Lauren’s eyes never left the whiteboard and Patrick looked down at his shoes, frowning.

She shouldn’t have said that, she knew. All their lives people had called them _insane and unnatural_ ; either with words or with actions. Protocols and explanations aside, Jack always insisted that the real reason their options were so limited was because people ‘didn’t want the _crazies_ around’. She felt awful for mirroring that sentiment in any way, but even worse because she now had the sickening feeling that they may have had a _point_.

How was she supposed to deal with _that?_

Something must have shown in her face because Jack scowled and came toward her. She startled and took a step back instinctively. She’d never been afraid of Jack before – even when he occasionally held her ‘hostage’ for some reason or another. But now something felt different, and she wasn’t sure if it was Jack or _her_.

Jack didn’t make it all the way to her though, just changed direction and paced in a brisk and unrecognizable pattern for a moment before turning to her again and snapping, “You know something, Sarina? _We’re_ trying to save _existence_ as we know it, and all you can do is _criticize!”_

She could feel something inside her withdraw suddenly, though she herself was perfectly still.  
  
“I'm sorry.” Her response was slow, her eyes going down in surrender. Patrick looked up now, glancing from Jack to Sarina in worry and indecision; his eyes were a little puffy. She wanted to tell him he had no reason to worry, she wasn’t going to start a fight; but she kept quiet instead. It was easier that way.

Familiar.  
  
“Thank you.” Jack nodded for too long and almost to himself, then looked away. “Now, where were we?”  
  
“Manipulating subspace.” Patrick supplied helpfully, still looking at Sarina. She didn’t look back, just slowly walked away from the board and her friends, so she could find a place to sit, quietly. She found it easier not to think too much now. Like this, she almost felt like she was _before_ , except instead of trying to focus to get more information, now she was focused on _limiting_ the information.  
  
“Right. Right.” She heard Jack say a little distractedly, before he went right back into his plans and theories. She didn’t hear the rest of it; everything seemed to just fade away…  
  
\----  
  
It had been a long time since Julian last felt this great. This _purposeful_. He had slept soundly all the way up until his alarm - both external and internal - had woken him and then it really _hit_ him. He’d _done it._ He’d cured her. Sarina was mobile now, and expressive, and _brilliant._ So many doors were going to open for her now, and he had been the one to open them. In a way, he felt like he’d given Sarina her life back.

He felt himself swell with accomplishment, with pride. It was _euphoric_.

That feeling seemed to carry him through his morning routine, an uncontrollable grin brightening his face. He had a compliment for every nurse and doctor on staff when he got to Med Bay, causing a few of them to chuckle behind their hands.

It had been a long time, too, since the young doctor had been so jovial. Not since the war started – er, _no_ , actually since Dr. Zimmerman had paid his visit.

But, there was _nothing_ that could bring him down today. He took a few extra breaks to check up on Sarina and her neuro-pathways, just to reassure them both that the procedure was a total success. He’d done this about three times before Sarina asked to go visit her friends and there was clearly no reason to deny her. He thought, too, that she wanted to get out of the clinic for a while. A hospital room was not exactly the height of accommodations.

As he wrapped up his shift that evening, he thought to put in a request for more permanent quarters for Sarina. Perhaps if she had her _own_ she would feel less inclined to break into _his_.

He smiled to himself as he made his way to the refitted cargo bay that housed the Institute’s troublesome trio, and was not at all surprised when the first thing to confront him when the doors slid open was an agitated Jack.

“There you are! _Finally!_ ”

“Hello, Jack.” Julian sighed, though he could still feel his lips curved up in a smile. He figured even _Jack_ would have to acknowledge his success in this. Still, the doctor’s eyes glanced right passed the other man, and intently sought out Sarina.

His smile dropped instantly.

“Is she alright?” Julian heard himself say, though he barely recognized the voice as his own. His whole being was locked on to his patient who was sitting _too_ still and _too_ quiet.

 _No no no_ , he thought. He began to walk forward, dazedly, almost oblivious to Jack who was still trying to get his attention. His mind was occupied with one thought: _it couldn’t be_. There was nothing that indicated-

“Alright? Sarina, are you alright?” Jack’s voice cut in as he glanced back at Sarina, a quick and unusual twist of the neck, before turning back to Julian and proclaiming, “She’s fine. _Listen_ , you need to talk to Starfleet for us. We need sub-space field generators - _lots of them_.”

“Can we talk about this _later?”_ Julian snapped, brushing the other man off. He didn’t have time for this. His legs moved almost of their own accord, across the room toward the immobile girl.

“ _Later?_ There isn’t going to _be_ a later, later!” He could distantly hear Jack shout, though the other man didn’t move to stop his progress. Instead, Jack continued on with his spiel as if uninterrupted.

Julian took a knee in front of his patient.

“Sarina?” He tried, terrified that she wouldn’t be able to answer; that he had somehow done something _wrong_ and this would be the end. He remembered suddenly, _vividly_ , the same abject feeling of helpless when he was unable to cure the Jem’Hadar of their addiction, or relieve the afflicted Teplans of their Blight. What had Ezri said about the differences in this situation? It didn’t feel so different now.

And then, she blinked. Gradually, Sarina’s eyes came back into focus and she turned her attention toward him, just like she had done yesterday on the Promenade, and Julian felt the same amount of astonishment and awe as he did then.  
  
“Hi.” She replied, a tad sheepishly, and Julian felt like he’d never heard a more welcome sound.

He felt his shoulders sag as if an enormous weight was suddenly carried off, and after a moment of getting himself together, he remembered to ask, “Is something wrong?”  
  
“No.” She looked away, clearly a little embarrassed. She shrugged, “They're used to me being quiet. It's easier this way.”

 _Ah,_ now it made sense. The last of his tension drained out of him. Of course Sarina was going to feel uncomfortable with things changing, and Julian was sure _this_ particular group wasn’t doing anything to make the transition any easier. But, it did give him an idea.  
  
“You know, some of my friends want to get together a little later on at Quark's.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant, though he couldn’t help but make the _very_ unfortunate comparison to asking someone out on a date. “I was wondering if you'd like to come along.”  
  
“Me?” She looked at him with eyes wide, and Julian once again felt the well of affection he had for her bubble up to the surface.  
  
He smiled back at her. “Do you want to?”  
  
“When should we be ready?” The quick-fire voice originating from right over Julian’s left shoulder made him jump, and he spun around to see that Jack, Lauren and Patrick had finished whatever strange plot they were conceiving by the whiteboard and had come over to eavesdrop on the conversation.  
  
“Er…” The doctor stalled, wondering if there was a _polite_ way to say they were the ones he wanted to get Sarina _away_ from. He would have said so outright if it had just been Jack, but Patrick was standing there too, and that probably would have sounded a little harsh.  
  
Fortunately, it seemed Lauren was able to easily decipher what was going on, and she gave the doctor a sly smirk, “Oh, _we're_ not invited, Jack. Just her.”  
  
“Figures.” Jack huffed, then immediately lost interest, drifting back to his whiteboard.  
  
“That doesn't seem fair.” Patrick looked up at Lauren with a pout, but the taller woman just patted him gently on the back in consolation.

“It's all right." Lauren said to Patrick, reassuringly, before approaching Sarina to help her up. "Come on, Sarina. Let's get you dressed.”  
  
\----  
  
“What do you think of this?”

Lauren held up a lovely grey-blue dress with thin vertical stripes and short sleeves. It was surprisingly modest, considering it was a suggestion from Lauren, and ordinarily Sarina would love it. As it was, however, Sarina’s mind was too distracted to give the dress more than a glance.  
  
“I don’t know.” Sarina said, her shoulders going up in a half-shrug. “Whatever you think looks best.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t think you’re quite ready for _that_.” Lauren laughed, loud and playful, “ _Most_ people like to leave something to the _imagination_.”  
  
“I just don’t know much about clothes.” Sarina said, her eyes stubbornly refusing to meet the older woman’s.

She didn’t seem to mind, however, or just didn’t notice. Instead she pushed the dress into Sarina’s arms and then guided her behind the curtain of the makeshift changing-room they set up in the far corner of the cargo bay. “That’s what _I’m_ here for. Now, go and look.”

Obediently, Sarina entered the changing room, which was set up with a small bench and a full-sized mirror. She held the dress up in front of herself, as if trying to judge how it would look on her, but really she wasn’t paying any attention to the dress. She was looking at her own reflection, staring at the crystal-clear image of herself that she was finally able to really _see_ – and wondered if this was really who she was.

If those people out there were really her life-long friends.

If that procedure was really what was best for her.

The dress wrinkled in her grip as she held it close to her chest. The more she was able to see, the more confused she felt. She didn’t know what to do.

“You know,” Lauren’s wistful voice from the other side of the curtain wafted into her awareness like a breeze, “I used to be the one to brush your hair, paint your nails… I suppose you’ll be able to do that on your own now.”

She was right; this sort of thing wasn’t all that unusual. Sarina never had an older sister, and could barely remember her mother, but Lauren had taken up both positions almost as soon as they had been introduced. They had a different relationship than the ones she had with the boys, and something inside Sarina relaxed slightly when she recognized the familiarity. Maybe, she hoped, not _everything_ had changed.  
  
“But, dressing you up for a _night on the town?_ _That_ I can do.” Lauren announced, as she swept passed the curtain with arms stacked with makeup and a wide smile on her face. “When _I’m_ through with you, you’ll be turning heads all night!”

After a full hour of Lauren insistently fixing everything from her hair to makeup to outfit to _posture_ into ‘utter perfection’, Sarina found herself fidgeting nervously behind the curtain while Lauren went out to do, what she called, _‘the big reveal’_. Sarina just hoped she didn’t look _too_ ridiculous.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, boys.” Sarina heard Lauren’s voice on just the other side of the curtain. She also heard some disparaging and impatient comment from Jack, but was unable to make it out before the curtain was flung back and she was left standing before an audience of three boys.

All three of them looked at her, speechless – even _Jack,_ who she’d never seen without something to say. Patrick had his hands over his mouth, though it didn’t fully cover his bright, bright smile. And Julian looked _completely_ flabbergasted.

Lauren slid up beside her, smugly, her arm curling around Sarina’s waist as she whispered,

“Am I good, or am I _good?_ ”

\----  
  
“Here they are.” Ezri stood, waving Julian and Sarina over to the back table their group had settled into.

“Well, would you look at _that_.” O’Brien said, leaning back slightly in his seat as he watched them approach.  
  
“She looks incredible.” Kira agreed, glancing toward Odo who looked as disinterested in humanoid aesthetics as he normally did. Ezri on the other hand could understand their outbursts. Sarina had really dressed up for the occasion, and there was no doubt that the young woman was _attractive_.

And she was _definitely_ not ready for that sort of attention so soon. Ezri was going to have to keep an eye out, even _more_ than she was already planning to.  
  
Ezri had been surprised when Julian told her he’d invited Sarina to join them tonight, but she also didn’t see anything wrong with it. Well, nothing aside from the _venue_. Quark’s was definitely a place where one’s social skills could be put to the test, but Ezri thought that it might be a little _too much too soon_ for Sarina.

But, she also didn’t want to sound like she was meddling. So, in compromise, she’d gotten here first and had requisitioned a table in the far back, away from the more crowded areas of the bar.

So far it seemed to be working out – Julian and Sarina had no trouble reaching their table without having to push their way passed the Dabo players and their admirers.

“Everyone this is Sarina; Sarina this is everyone.” Julian introduced Sarina with a wide, boyish grin. Honestly, Ezri had seen Julian smile – _really_ smile – more in the last _two days_ than she had since she arrived on Deep Space Nine a few months ago. 

_Jadzia_ knew he used to smile like that a lot.  
  
“Odo.”  
  
“Nerys.”  
  
“I’m Miles.”

They all took turns introducing themselves and shaking Sarina’s hand. Then it came down to Ezri who couldn’t help but grin sheepishly as she reached for Sarina’s hand as well, “And you probably remember me...”  
  
“Ezri Dax.” Sarina answered with a smile. Ezri felt her spots heat up.  
  
“You look lovely. Doesn’t she?” Kira nudged Ezri slightly on the shoulder and that managed to snap her out of the odd stupor she’d fallen into.  
  
“Oh, _yes_. I _love_ your outfit.” She said, and Sarina chuckled.  
  
“Thank you. I… helped pick it out.”  
  
“Julian’s been telling us you’ve been getting along pretty well for yourself.” O’Brien said in that sort of gruff-friendly way of his, as he took a short sip from his glass.  
  
“I’m glad to see _something_ positive came out of that deplorable breach in security.” Odo scoffed.  
  
Sarina’s face visibly fell, “…I’m sorry.”

Ezri was about to cut in when Kira came to the rescue with a laugh.

“Oh, _don’t_ be.” She said, hiding a grin behind her hand. “He was _thrilled_ to have an excuse to demand a major overhaul of the station’s security systems. It made his _week_.”

The tension eased as the whole group snickered in agreement, except for Odo, who had the poise to at least _look_ affronted. “ _Hmph_.”  
  
“Is anyone else ready to order?” O’Brien asked as he prepared to flag down a waiter.

As Julian and Sarina took their seats, Julian offered her a menu which she quickly declined. “Oh, I wouldn’t know what to get…”  
  
“Could I…?” Came a surprisingly hesitant request from Odo, of all people. He held out his hand for the menu which Sarina handed to him without protest, but a bit of surprise.  
  
Kira answered that one as well. “He’s got a little _experience_ learning to order from _humanoid_ menus.” She said, as she rested her chin on her palm and watched her lover methodically go over the menu with a look of intense fondness on her face. Odo pretended not to notice.

Ezri smiled, and she felt the looming anxiety she had about this dissipate as the night wore on. There was good food, friendly chatter about nothing in particular, and no one seemed to have a problem filling Sarina in on all their little jokes and stories.

She didn’t know what she was so worried about. These were good people. It was a good night.

But, like all things, it eventually had to come to an end. As the night went on, more and more people began to fill Quark’s Bar until even their little out of the way table felt crowded.

Sarina, too, seemed to be waning as the night went on and as soon as Ezri found an opportunity to do so, she slid up beside her and asked, “How are you feeling?”  
  
“I’m fine.” Came the automatic reply, but when Ezri just raised her eyebrows in a silent _‘is that all?_ ’ Sarina relented, “There are just… a lot of people.”  
  
Ezri nodded in understanding, then turned and tapped Julian on the back. “It’s getting pretty late, why don’t we start heading back?”  
  
\----

Despite feeling a little bad that Julian and Ezri to left early on her account, Sarina felt a great sense of relief once she was out of the bar and onto the mostly deserted Promenade. Meeting Doctor Bashir’s friends had been amazing of course – they were all incredible people, and so nice – but she wasn’t used to interacting with so many people for so long, and the bar was beginning to get noisy as well.

Fortunately, Ezri seemed to be looking out for her, and they’d left before she felt too overwhelmed. Overall, it was one of the best nights of her life.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had a good time.” She said to the doctor, as the three of them walked along the Promenade back to the infirmary.

“I enjoyed your company, and I know the others did as well.” Julian replied, and it seemed like an honest answer, even though Sarina had imagined herself being quite awkward around his friends.

“I have to admit I was a little worried that you might feel uncomfortable around so many new faces.” Ezri added, conversationally, and Sarina couldn’t help but smile at her subtle non-question. Ezri really was looking out for her, and she knew Julian was as well. _They_ were her _friends_ – it made her feel a little better.

“Not at all.” Sarina answered, then sighed, “It was easy to feel comfortable around them. I didn't have to worry that someone was going to throw a _tantrum_ , or break into tears all of a sudden.” 

“They only usually do _that_ at staff meetings.” Julian joked, but Ezri stopped walking and Sarina slowed to a stop beside her, staring at the ground. 

“Jack's always talking about how we're _better_ than normal people. He says _that's_ why they keep us locked up...” Sarina could hear the tight note of desperation in her voice. She choked it back. “But he's _wrong_. He couldn't get by in the real world. He'd get himself into too much trouble. So would Lauren and Patrick…”

Ezri seemed like she wanted to say something, but Julian spoke up first, “That's why they belong in the Institute. In fact, Doctor Loews wants me to get them back there as soon as possible.”

“I'm not going with them, am I?” Sarina concluded, still staring at the ground.

This time Ezri cut in before Julian could answer, “What do _you_ want?”

“I don’t _know_.” Sarina answered honestly. She’d really never had to make that kind of decision for herself, and it was beyond intimidating. She wasn’t even sure there _was_ a right decision. “The others have been like family to me for as long as I can remember. We had our own little world, just the four of us.”

“Had?” Ezri pressed gently, but Sarina didn’t know what to say about that. It felt wrong to even say the words.

“Well, there’s no reason you have to decide _now_. You’ve already been released from the compulsory program on my recommendation.” Julian said, completely oblivious to the irritated look Ezri shot him. “You could stay here and experience life outside the Institute for as long as you wanted.”

Sarina knew the subtle implication there. ‘ _You’ve_ been released’. _You_ , but not _them_.

She let out a deep breath. She had known this was coming. She had known almost as soon as she’d realized the difference between herself and her friends. She finally looked up and met Dr. Bashir’s eyes.

“I’d have to tell them goodbye.”


End file.
